


Jeremy's Dad is a Terrible Loser Who Ruins Everything Because He Is Terrible

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Gaslighting, Gen, Messed up family dynamics, Pre-Canon, Self Harm, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 22:04:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18397256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Mr. Heere is trying to kill Jeremy and sabotage his math homework.  He's bad at everything, and he makes the boringest sandwiches known to man.(Then again, maybe it's possible that Jeremy's failing to understand a few things about his home situation...)





	Jeremy's Dad is a Terrible Loser Who Ruins Everything Because He Is Terrible

Sometimes Jeremy’s mom forgets things or does things wrong, but Jeremy shouldn't say so. It makes her sad. It even makes her cry. Sometimes she scares Jeremy, but telling her so would only hurt her. She leads a terrible and thankless life. She could've been a lot of things, like a singer or a veterinarian, but instead she's stuck being a wife and mother. It's all dad’s fault, and also Jeremy’s.

*

On Monday and Tuesday, Jeremy’s dad packs him a boring sandwich and boring grapes for lunch. On Wednesday, mom chews dad out. That’s _her_ task. Does he always have to be such a patronizing ass? She's better at it anyway. She takes over, making a big show of putting slices of apple in Jeremy’s chicken sandwich. It's a revelation, actually. It's all crunchy and sweet but also savory and delicious. Way better than dad’s sandwiches. 

On Thursday and Friday, nobody packs lunch for Jeremy, so he shares Michael's. On Monday it's peanut butter with bananas and Nutella. Even though Michael has his own lunch, Jeremy still shares, because Nutella is like dessert, only healthy. 

The rest of the week, it's back to no lunch, until dad swoops in on Friday to ruin Jeremy and his mom's life with a limp sandwich that tastes like failure. 

*

Jeremy often has asthma attacks at night. He's allergic to stuff, and it's spring, so he's extra especially allergic to _all_ the stuff. He lays awake, wondering whether he's a nerd because he has asthma, or if maybe he got the asthma as punishment for being a nerd. He also wonders how passed out his mom will be. She doesn't like him to overdo it with the chemical medicines, so waking her up to get her to give him his inhaler is always risky. Besides, going into mommy and daddy’s in room middle of the night is something that babies do. Jeremy is eleven. Verifiably not a baby. 

Even so, he's wheezing a ton. It's like trying to breathe through the gaps in a damp Brillo Pad. It's not scary, ‘cause Jeremy’s used to it, but he's got a spelling test tomorrow, and he won't be sleeping unless he takes his medicine, so gathers up his courage and knocks on his parents’ door. 

Mom is curled up asleep in jeans and a bra, a half-finished bottle of wine on the bedside table next to her alarm clock. Dad opens the door, puts his finger to his mouth for Jeremy to be quiet, comes out, and closes the door softly behind him. With one hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, he guides him down the hallway. He glances at the doorway, then places something plastic in Jeremy’s hand. 

It's Jeremy’s inhaler. He takes it, then takes a big puff. The relief is immediate. He starts to hand it back, but his dad shakes his head. 

“You know how to use it, don't you?” 

Jeremy nods. It's not exactly rocket science. Just put it to your mouth, aim, and fire. 

“I think you should keep it. Don't tell your mother.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

Jeremy’s dad smiles, and Jeremy smiles back. He rushes back to his room. His own inhaler! No more wheezing! He can take it whenever he wants! Finally, he's got the power to beat his stupid asthma to smithereens! Jeremy takes a puff, and then another. The taste is bitter, but somehow reassuring. He holds it away from his face, pushes it down, and watches the white mist that flies out of it. He does it again, trying to catch the mist with his tongue, biting down at it kinda like this dog he saw trying to catch snowflakes in a YouTube video. Then, as an experiment, he tries taking the inhaler with his nose instead of his mouth. It stings, and it's uncomfortably cold, but he's got to do it, for science. 

By morning, something is up, and Jeremy doesn't like it. His heart is racing so fast that it’s making his eye twitch. He shouldn't make a big deal, he knows. Usually when he thinks he's sick or something, he's actually faking. His mom doesn't notice the twitch on the drive to school, but Michael does, and makes him go to the nurse, who calls his mom, and asks a lot of questions, like if he's on any medications he doesn't usually take and…

Jeremy breaks down and tells his mom about dad’s gift of the inhaler on the ride to the hospital to have things checked out. Jeremy doesn't die, and even feels mostly normal after a few hours. Jeremy’s mom rampages through the kitchen, breaking glasses, and ranting about how irresponsible his dad is. Dad is an idiot. Dad is trying to get Jeremy killed.

*

In Jeremy’s math class, there's a test coming up on how to round numbers. Math is the hardest class to pay attention in. Not only is it boring, the teacher also has a big fish tank set up in the classroom. Fish are hypnotic. They conquer numbers with their shiny scales and swooshy tails. In the presence of fish, numbers cease to exist. 

Still, Jeremy doesn't want to fail the test. Mom has a series of scars running up her arms, and if Jeremy fails, especially if he fails something easy, she’ll make another. They are there because Jeremy’s mistakes don't just hurt him. They hurt his mother too. He needs to stop only thinking of himself and video games. He needs to pay attention and do better. 

Jeremy presents his practice worksheet to dad, the day before the test. 

“How do I do this?” he asks. 

Dad sits down next to him, and shows him how 6.1 turns into 6.0, because one is closer to zero than to ten. 6.8 changes into 7.0, because eight is closer to ten. Things with a five next to the decimal point should always round up, even though five is just as close to zero as it is to ten. It's not hard at all! Once Jeremy finishes the worksheet, dad writes out some more problems for him to try, and declares him a math genius when he gets them all right. 

Jeremy is the first to finish the test when math class rolls around. 

He's also the first to get a zero. 

The teacher calls him to the front of the class, and puts his test paper under the projector for all to see. She asked for whole numbers only, no decimal points. Three point zero should just be three! Eight point zero should just be eight! So on and so forth. Everything Jeremy’s written is wrong, wrong, wrong. 

“It's dad’s fault!” Jeremy tells his mom after school that day, thrusting the paper at her, his eyes stinging. “He told me to write zero after all the decimal points, but everybody knows the whole point of rounding numbers is to get rid of the decimal point! It should've been so _easy_ and he taught me wrong!” 

Mom screams at dad late that night. Jeremy’s in bed, but he can hear them. 

“Everybody knows the whole point of rounding numbers is to get rid of the decimal point!” she screams. “It should've been so _easy_ and you taught him wrong! What kind of parent are you?” 

* 

“I hate my dad,” Jeremy tells Michael. They’re waiting just outside the school for Jeremy’s dad to pick them up and take them to the arcade. “He patronizes my mom, makes crappy sandwiches, tries to poison me, and gave me the wrong answers on my math test. He's the worst!” 

“He tries to do _what_?”

“Shhh! His car’s coming!” 

“If he's trying to kill you, I'll make him stop. Is he really trying to kill you?” 

Jeremy nods, though he's not sure. He's gotten in trouble for things like this before. Like, once he told Michael that his mom drove drunk, and then he told her to not to do that, so she talked to Jeremy about it until he realized he'd made it all up for attention. 

“Don't say anything to him, please,” Jeremy whispers. 

“What am I supposed to do?” 

“Don't tell him I told you all that. Just smile. I need you to smile. I'm used to him sucking. I mean, it's not a big deal. I suck too.”


End file.
